


Failure to Communicate

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Consent Issues, Crack, Dungeon, M/M, Revenge, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trigger warning for consent issues/attempted noncon elements, and violence and verbal abuse between sexual partners.</p><p>Slade wants to hurt Oliver in every possible way -- physically, psychologically, and sexually. Oliver interprets this to mean that they are dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure to Communicate

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crackfic that involves consent issues and violence between sexual partners. If this hurts, bothers, or offends you in any way, please do not read.
> 
> If you want specifics, 2 characters have what starts as consensual sex, but one character intentionally makes the sex very rough without asking in order to intentionally hurt and scare the other character; the second character is not hurt or scared and instead enjoys the rough sex.

Slade wasn’t exactly sure how it happened. He had finally revealed himself to Oliver. He expected the kid to be afraid, sure, but at least to put up some kind of fight.

Instead, Slade had taken off his mask, and within the minute, Oliver’s legs were wrapped around Slade’s body, Slade’s arm holding him by his back, as they fucked, fast and careless, Oliver’s face going stupid with pain and pleasure.

It’s like the kid didn’t even know Slade was there to punish him. 

It pissed Slade off.

So he flipped Oliver over and went even faster, rougher, hard jerks into Oliver’s body, making it clear with his disregard that Oliver was nothing but meat, that he wanted to degrade and hurt him again and again. When he was done, he dropped Oliver on the concrete floor and walked away.

He figured that would teach Oliver that this was no reunion; he was there to bring pain and for no other reason.

\--

The next time Slade saw him, Oliver had tracked down Slade’s hideout. Slade realized that Oliver must have put a tracker on Slade during the last time they… saw each other. 

“You think you got a shot against me, kid? You wouldn’t have stood a chance even before the Mirakuru,” Slade said.

“You know why I’m here,” Oliver said, and walked right up to Slade and tried to kiss him.

Slade knocked him back onto his ass, barely restraining himself enough not to kill him – he wasn’t there to give Oliver quick and painless, he was there to kill him long and slow.

Oliver stood back up and tried to kiss Slade again

Slade put him on the ground again, this time in a very painful, arm-twisting hold.

“How stupid are you, kid?”

The answer came in the form of Oliver moving his free hand to rub against Slade’s groin.

“I’m not here to kiss and make up, you idiot,” Slade growled

“I didn’t say anything about making up,” Oliver said, rubbing Slade’s dick through his clothes.

Slade let him out of the hold, stood up, and slapped him. Oliver stayed on his knees. “Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” Slade said angrily.

“When we had amazing sex?”

Slade frowned. That was not the message he had intended. “That wasn’t exactly cuddling, Oliver!”

“Okay, did I miss the time when we cuddled? Ever? Don’t even act like you didn’t enjoy it last time, Slade.”

“Last time? When I fucked you ‘til you couldn’t move and I left you on the ground like garbage?” he hissed.

“And that’s different from every other time we had sex… how?” Oliver said, as if he were bored to have to say something so obvious.

Slade narrowed his eyes at Oliver. He had absolutely no idea if Oliver were fucking with him or if Slade had actually always been that inconsiderate.

“Listen,” Slade said, “I came to this city to destroy you, to take apart your life piece by piece. You can dream that I’m here for something else all you want but – hey! Eyes up here!” Oliver, still on his knees, was rather obviously not paying attention to Slade’s words, staring instead at Slade’s crotch.

“I’m sorry, did I offend your delicate sensibilities?” Oliver said with a smirk.

Slade felt the rage roil inside him. The kid thought he was in control of the situation? 

“That’s how you want to play it, you’ll be sorry,” Slade gritted out.

Oliver just smiled at him as he undid Slade’s zipper. 

Slade felt himself losing control, and he didn’t know if it was the Mirakuru or just his own anger – not that the two were all that separate these days – but soon Slade was thrusting into Oliver’s mouth, gagging him, shutting the idiot up, making sure he knew that there would be consequences to his insolence. Making sure that Oliver finally understood that this was not a game.

When he was done, he came in Oliver’s throat without warning, grabbing Oliver’s hair to prevent him from moving away.

Oliver fell to the ground on his hands and knees then, panting from lack of breath. 

“If you’re not out of the building in two minutes, I’ll shoot you,” Slade said and turned his back. He heard Oliver quickly run away, still breathing hard, and smiled. 

He wanted Oliver to live in fear of him. It would be one more torture to add to the list.

 

\--

A few days later, one of Slade’s buildings was cleaned out by the Hood. Slade showed up at Oliver’s training room and found him alone, sitting on a bench, as if he were waiting for Slade.

Slade took out his sword and held it an inch away from Oliver’s face.

Oliver said, calmly, “I think you should be nicer to me.”

Slade glared. There’s no way anyone could be this idiotic. Not even Oliver.

“You should take me to dinner,” Oliver said. “Bring me presents, maybe.”

Slade growled, “You think I’m going to take you to dinner?!”

“On the island, we didn’t have the option. Here we do. I think you should plan a nice evening out for us.”

Slade moved the sword closer to Oliver’s cheek. “I came here to destroy you.”

“Yeah, you said that. But judging by your actions, whatever your other plans are, you’re also planning on dating me until the fruition of your great revenge blah blah blah. And I’m just saying, I deserve to be wooed. And I meant it about bringing me a present.”

“How about the dismembered bodies of your friends?”

“No, something romantic,” Oliver said calmly, “Like flowers. Or cupcakes.”

Slade had to stop himself from beating the kid’s face in. Just to be safe, he lowered the sword. “You’re going to be sorry you didn’t take me seriously,” he said, voice full of venom.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to argue about this. Let’s just have sex and maybe we’ll talk about it next time.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a repeat of what I gave you last time,” Slade threatened.

Oliver smiled and licked his lips.

Slade slapped him hard enough to knock him to the ground. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

“Not me, apparently,” Oliver grumbled, and Slade grunted in frustration and left.

 

\--

Two days later, the Hood raided another of Slade’s warehouses in the middle of the day. That night, Slade broke into the Queens’ mansion, subdued Oliver with a chokehold, and carried him out of there with no one the wiser.

He brought Oliver to a small, dark room, and chained him to a metal table, then threw water on him to wake him. 

Gasping, Oliver tried to sit up, but was restrained by the chains. He was wearing nothing but a thin pair of pajama pants. 

“Slade,” Oliver said, voice full of relief as he realized what was happening. 

He was _relieved_ that it was Slade who had taken him.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Slade said menacingly.

Oliver smiled and raised an eyebrow. Somehow, he didn’t seem menaced. 

“This is not a love nest,” Slade said. “This is where you will rot and be tortured until I end you.”

“When I said I wanted a date night, I wasn’t expecting anything this elaborate.”

Slade held Oliver by the neck. “You are not here for sex. You are here to suffer.”

Oliver looked at him skeptically. He said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Yeah. You’re going to keep me here for days and weeks, half naked, chained to a table, in a _dungeon_ , and we’re not going to have sex.”

“This is not a dungeon!” Slade yelled. “I mean it is, but not a sex dungeon. It’s the real kind.”

“And would you be the dungeon _master_?” Oliver said flirtatiously.

“Make your jokes now, dumbass, it won’t be so funny when your loved ones can’t find you.”

“Eh, I figured you’d do something like this, so I told my family that I’d be going out of town for a while.”

Oliver expected this?

“And your team?” Slade said.

Oliver shrugged. “At first they didn’t want to let me handle this alone. But then I explained that you’re my ex and they were happy to take a vacation. I believe Felicity’s exact words were ‘Yeah, just what we need, more Oliver’s-exes drama,’ and Diggle’s were ‘How did you manage to fuck the one person in the world who’s crazier than Helena?’” 

Slade wondered if he should be offended. Truthfully, though, Oliver’s team sounded much less tedious than they looked from afar.

“Look,” Slade said, trying to get back on track, “I didn’t bring you here to fuck you.”

“I’m sure that’s just a side bonus,” Oliver said, winking.

Slade stormed out the of room, so angry he could barely see. He was even more annoyed when he realized that in his exasperation, he had completely forgotten to torture Oliver.

\--

Slade kept him captive for a while.

They did end up having sex.

Slade didn’t consider it giving in to weakness. He considered it part of the psychological warfare he was waging against Oliver.

Definitely wasn’t giving in to weakness.

The last few times, for reasons Slade didn’t really recall, he had taken Oliver out of the dungeon and into his bedroom. It was probably just that the metal table wasn’t comfortable for Slade.

Most recently, it was lying side by side on Slade’s bed, Slade’s arms gripping Oliver’s hips as he moved, in and out, kissing Oliver’s shoulder, biting it softly whenever he wanted to hear Oliver whimper. 

When they were done, Oliver was stupid enough to try to lean back toward Slade, to try to curl up next to him. 

Slade shoved him and he flew off the bed.

Oliver sighed, stood up, and climbed back into bed, this time keeping a foot of distance.

“Don’t think this means a thing, kid,” Slade said

“Yeah, you say that every time,” Oliver muttered.

Slade vaguely recalled saying that on the island. But he was a bit offended: ‘every time’ was almost certainly an exaggeration.

It didn’t matter, of course. What mattered was that Oliver knew that this was revenge, that however it resembled what they used to have, every move Slade made was to torture him.

Slade decided to drive the message home. “I’ll never forgive you for Shado,” Slade said. It was the first time he said her name aloud since the island.

Oliver's body tensed, and Slade watched Oliver’s eyes blur, then settle into steel. “You shouldn’t,” Oliver said, hard, and it was almost like an order.

Slade wasn’t sure what he wanted to say next. He willed himself to feel no pity; of course Oliver felt guilty. He fucking should feel guilty.

“But,” Oliver added, “I’m never going to forgive you for letting me think you were dead.” There was a challenge in his eyes, the fight that Slade had been waiting for this whole time. Finally.

Slade knew that this would be a good time to wrap his hand around Oliver’s neck and start the real punishment.

Somehow, he just grunted instead.

Oliver sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Slade watched his eyelashes blink back against something. 

“You know something, kid? You have got to be the stupidest, most worthless piece of shit that I have ever encountered in my entire life.”

Oliver smiled at him then – the idiot _smiled_ \-- and then grabbed his pillow more tightly. He closed his eyes, then, as if he didn’t have a fear in the world, and mumbled, “Just like old times.”

Rage overtook Slade, a vicious rage at Oliver’s stupidity, his smugness, his complete lack of comprehension of the situation. He stewed angrily.

Angrily, but quietly. No use waking the idiot up.


End file.
